


On the Rocks

by Butterfly



Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-08-10
Updated: 2005-08-10
Packaged: 2017-10-27 03:32:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/291174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Butterfly/pseuds/Butterfly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anakin, Obi-Wan, and the appeal of the flesh.</p>
            </blockquote>





	On the Rocks

Liquid heat flowed over Obi-Wan’s tongue, and then blazed its way down his throat.

He clapped the shotglass on the table, motioning to the bartender to refill it.

The bartender, a shifty-eyed Weequay with a scar across his left cheek, hesitated for a moment, his gaze shifting to Obi-Wan’s left hip, where his lightsaber hung, exposed, and then the bartender nodded, pouring more of the pale liquor into the glass.

Obi-Wan cocked his head slightly, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. He reached forward, picked up the glass of qanreck and downed it, enjoying the burn.

“You look like you’re having fun, maybe a little too much fun, considering the outfit.” It was a husky female voice, coming from behind him, on the right. Obi-Wan twisted on his chair, running his gaze bottom to top. “Are you really a Jedi, or are you playing?”

She was human, and Corellian by the sound of her.

Slim, bare legs led up to generous hips and then to a trim waist, made more so by a tight corset. Obi-Wan’s gaze then lingered for a moment on dusky skin showcased by the low neckline of her pale dress.

Her lips were colored a deep red, and were quirked in an amused smile. Her eyes were a warm dark brown, and she had tiny green gems pressed in a line across her forehead, sparking in the low light of the bar. Her curly black hair was shot through with glittering strands of gold and silver.

Very nicely put together, though not his usual type.

“The Order does not entirely disallow enjoying oneself,” Obi-Wan said, carefully. There were no stools available, so she slipped right up next to him, standing close enough for him to smell not just the light traces of some musky perfume, but also the clean and inviting scent of her skin underneath.

“That’s not an answer, but I don’t really mind. You look enough like the real thing,” she purred, her hand covering his on the counter. Her gaze shot to his lightsaber. “And so does that.”

Her fingers stroked the back of his hand, an invitation very clear in the teasing touch.

Obi-Wan licked his lips, sorely tempted to accept. A release of the flesh was nothing as grand and lasting as the release found in meditation and yet, this night, he found that he longed for the physical.

She shifted towards him, her other hand landing on his thigh. Obligingly, Obi-Wan turned slightly toward her, and she moved up close, standing between his legs.

And she was warm and beautiful, and he ached to touch her.

He slowly slid his fingers along the smooth skin of her shoulder, and she pressed up against him, her lust mixing with relief at his positive reaction to her advances. She wanted him and that feeling, the _want_ and the knowing that he could sate it, was a fire that no amount of qanreck could match.

She was leaning in towards him and he was looking forward to tasting her mouth, seeing what she’d had to drink this evening, when he felt Anakin enter the bar.

Sensing _that_ was rather like falling into an ice-cold river, dousing his arousal in seconds.

He froze where he was, and she sensed the change, looking at him with confused eyes.

Obi-Wan could see Anakin just over her shoulder, the light from doorway turning him into an ominous silhouette of light and shadow.

Then the door closed behind him and he was Anakin again, strangely vulnerable without his braid, but still just Anakin. Anakin, of course, spotted him immediately and Obi-Wan could feel the smallest hints of emotion – anger, hurt, _fear_ – before Anakin’s walls slammed down.

Obi-Wan pulled away from the woman with an apologetic smile.

“I’m very sorry,” he said gently. “My plans for the night just changed.”

She glanced over her shoulder, then shivered, pulling away from Obi-Wan and hurrying off into the crowd.

Anakin’s expression was shuttered, but Obi-Wan could see why she’d left so quickly – Anakin’s hand hovered near his lightsaber and his eyes were cold.

Obi-Wan reached up to rub at the knot of tension forming between his eyebrows and then turned back to the bar, motioning to the bartender, who poured him another shot with a shaking hand, spilling a small amount of the expensive liquor on the counter.

As if he’d never seen a pair of Jedi before.

Obi-Wan took the glass and drank it quickly, thought about ordering another.

“You’re drunk.” Anakin’s voice, almost shrill in its accusatory tone.

“I’m _drinking_ ,” Obi-Wan corrected him, deciding to go ahead and signal for another shot. Anakin’s left hand landed over the top of the glass, strong fingers curling around the edges.

“You’ve had enough,” he said.

“You really have no say in the matter, my young-“ Obi-Wan cut the words off before he could make a fool of himself. Unlike some, he didn’t tend pout over the unfairness of the universe, but it seemed profoundly wrong that his one sure-fire way of checking Anakin’s ego was no longer available. “Well, it isn’t up to you, in any case.”

“Master, please,” Anakin said, and his voice had lost that annoying demanding quality. “I just wanted a chance to talk to you in private, one Jedi to another.”

Obi-Wan glanced sharply at the bartender, who immediately decided that he wasn’t interested in watching them after all, and then at Anakin, who held himself so straight and tall in here. Anakin had never developed Obi-Wan’s fondness for bars.

Perhaps that was for the best.

“Not here, then, I suppose,” Obi-Wan said, and Anakin relaxed a little. “I understand that you’ve already been assigned your new rooms.”

“Yes, Master,” Anakin said.

“Perhaps there,” Obi-Wan said. Anakin nodded, attempting a smile. It wasn’t a terribly successful try, ending up somewhat closer to a grimace.

“After you,” Anakin said, gesturing with his right hand.

Obi-Wan made his way out of the bar, intensely aware of Anakin walking a few feet behind him. He had the oddest sense of being _herded_ , as if he were unreliable livestock on the way to the slaughterhouse.

He signaled for an air cab and climbed in, sliding over to make room for Anakin.

“The Jedi Temple,” Anakin said, his eyes still on Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan turned his head and gazed out the window of the cab, though he didn’t actually notice any of the traffic outside. Next to him, Anakin was a blaze of carefully contained energy, giving Obi-Wan no hint as to his intentions.

He felt Anakin’s gaze on the back of his neck the entire ride to the Temple, but he determinedly ignored it, shoring up his own shields to hide his curiosity from Anakin. Obi-Wan wanted them to be in private when Anakin went off on whatever had gotten him so very emotional, and Anakin seemed inclined to humor him.

The plaza walkway in front of the Temple was filled with people, some Jedi, most not. Anakin took the lead here, and then in the Temple, moving swiftly through the crowds, his expectation pulling Obi-Wan forward with him.

They didn’t pass anyone that Obi-Wan felt obliged to greet, which was something of a relief, as the power of Anakin’s emotions was quite obvious up close, though the nature of them stayed hidden.

Soon enough, far too soon, they had reached Anakin’s new apartment and, with a graceful wave of his hand, Anakin willed open the door and then strolled inside, briefly glancing over his shoulder to look at Obi-Wan with unreadable blue eyes.

Anakin’s new rooms were three floors higher than his old quarters with Obi-Wan, and fifty feet farther from the nearest stairwell.

Still, they seemed far too close together.

Obi-Wan had not yet received a new assignment, but it was almost a certainty that he would be entirely on his own – Masters were usually assigned solo missions after their Padawans had been knighted, to get them used to their own company again before they took a new apprentice.

And once he had a new apprentice, he’d barely see Anakin at all, considering the demands of the war.

To be so near to Anakin and yet not be his Master – it was not a pleasant thought, not after they’d come so far in the past year.

So, to his chagrin, Obi-Wan found himself pausing before the threshold of Anakin’s apartment, hovering between the old and the new.

Obi-Wan could feel Anakin strengthening and personalizing the standard room shields, and it was becoming apparent that Anakin really did want to talk, and that he wanted to assure their privacy. Obi-Wan only hoped that it wasn’t… something he would need to lie to the Council about.

One deep breath, in and out, and Obi-Wan _willed_ himself to let go of his fears and his regrets.

He walked into the room, the door sliding shut behind him.

Here, they were cut off from the energy of the Temple – Obi-Wan could feel the life thrumming around them, but it was muted to an indecipherable hum, no single person standing out. Just as any emotions coming out of this room would be turned sideways, their origin and content impossible to guess, even for a Master as powerful and wise as Yoda.

“You’ve been working on your shielding,” Obi-Wan noted, taking in the room.

The floor was softly carpeted in the same neutral beige that favored his own rooms. There was a lighter-colored couch angled to face the entrance and two closed doors on the left side of the room, which would lead to Anakin’s bedroom and to his kitchen.

The room was still bare and empty, even of emotional traces. It had been a long time since this room had been used – possibly not even in Obi-Wan’s lifetime, as they had far more rooms than they had Jedi to fill them, these days.

The most vibrant thing in the room was Anakin, waiting patiently, his dark clothes standing out against the light surroundings, his Force-signature making the energy around him shimmer with potential.

“Well, here we are,” Obi-Wan said, holding his arms out in an exaggerated gesture of surrender. “You _did_ say you wanted to talk.”

Anakin gestured towards the window, tinting it, darkening the room and hiding them from the city outside.

“I did,” he said. An uncertain smile was tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Did you want to sit down?”

“I’m fine,” Obi-Wan said. Anakin nodded slightly, prowling towards Obi-Wan, running his hand along the back of the couch as he passed it. “Anakin, focus. What did you want to tell me?”

“It’s… complicated,” Anakin said.

“I hope so,” Obi-Wan said. “If it were _simple_ , you could have just told me in the bar and we wouldn’t have needed to come here.”

There was a clear flash of anger from Anakin, quickly tamped down.

“The Jedi Council has given me my first assignment as a Knight,” Anakin said, pulling off his cloak and tossing it back onto the couch. “I’m going to go to the second moon of Jurkesh and look into possible Separatist influences there.”

“Jurkesh is almost in the Outer Rim,” Obi-Wan said. “Who’s accompanying you?”

“You don’t think that I can handle a simple investigation?” Anakin asked.

“That’s not what I said and it is certainly not what I meant,” Obi-Wan said.

“Then what did you mean?” Anakin asked, tilting his chin up challengingly.

“Merely that I do doubt that the Council would so quickly give you a solo assignment after what happened on your last one,” Obi-Wan said. Anakin pressed his lips into a thin line, and Obi-Wan was certain that there was far too much anger hidden under those new shields of his. “You disobeyed the Council, Anakin. They don’t reward Jedi for that. It will take time to earn back their trust.”

“That was almost a year ago,” Anakin said.

“You really think that Master Windu has forgotten?” Obi-Wan asked.

“He’s a Jedi Master,” Anakin said. “I’m sure that he’s moved past it. The Council _has_ seen that I’ve changed, why haven’t you?”

“Anakin, this can’t be why you asked me here,” Obi-Wan said, as Anakin had never been shy about openly voicing his disapproval of Obi-Wan’s methods, even in front of the other Masters.

Anakin’s mouth twisted slightly in annoyance.

“No, it isn’t,” he said, touching the small tuft of hair left from the severing of his Padawan braid. “This is about your promise.”

“What promise?” Obi-Wan asked, pushing away the queasy feeling in the pit of his stomach.

“I’m not your Padawan anymore,” Anakin said, moving a step closer to Obi-Wan. “Not your apprentice, not your responsibility.”

“Oh, _that_ promise,” Obi-Wan said, wishing for a moment that they were having the uncomfortable talk that he’d thought they were going to have, about Anakin’s not-quite-discreet-enough visits to Senator Amidala. Though now he could certainly see just why Anakin had wanted to have this talk in private. “You remembered that.”

“I’ve thought of nothing else for the past week,” Anakin said.

To be perfectly honest, Obi-Wan hadn’t given the promise much thought since, well, since he’d made it. He’d always assumed that Anakin had forgotten it years ago as well.

Apparently, he’d been wrong.

“You’ve been hiding it well,” Obi-Wan said.

“As you noticed earlier, I’ve been working on my shielding,” Anakin said. “I wanted to surprise you.”

“You succeeded,” Obi-Wan said, carefully. “I didn’t sense a thing.”

“Are you impressed?” Anakin asked now, a boyish, eager smile on his face. Without the braid, he looked so much younger than twenty-one.

“Are you impressed?” Anakin had asked Obi-Wan then, a shy smile making him look even younger than his sixteen years. “I made it myself.”

His open palm had been holding a small blue oblong stone, with tiny, beautiful designs etched into the surface….

 _“Did you use the Force to do that?” Obi-Wan asked, reaching out to stroke his finger over the warmed surface of the stone. Anakin nodded, and Obi-Wan could feel his emotions trembling and tumbling, forever in motion. Obi-Wan carefully pressed Anakin’s fingers back over the stone, closing his hand. “You know that I can’t accept it.”_

 _“But I made it for you,” Anakin said. “You have to take it.”_

 _“Anakin, a Jedi has no possessions,” Obi-Wan said. “Give this to someone who can keep it.”_

 _Anakin shook his head, still holding his hand out towards Obi-Wan._

 _“You need it,” he said, fiercely. “Please take it, Master.”_

 _“Why do I need it?” Obi-Wan asked, patiently._

 _“Just… look,” Anakin told him, opening his hand again. “Please.”_

 _Cautiously, Obi-Wan plucked the stone from Anakin’s palm, bringing it up to the light._

 _The designs were protection symbols, in a dozen languages, carved almost too small even for Obi-Wan to read. Here, Anakin entreated in sharp Huttese for Obi-Wan to stay uninjured. On the other side, the curving letters of Jur’e’ethee asked for Obi-Wan’s spirit to endure through any trials he might face. So many different words for safety, protection, and hope were embedded into the stone, and made it a truly fitting gift from his superstitious desert child._

 _“It’s beautiful,” Obi-Wan whispered, noticing that the stone was glowing in the Force, so much of Anakin’s will had been poured into it in the making._

 _“You like it,” Anakin said, pride puffing him up. Obi-Wan closed his hand around the stone tightly, not quite able to speak through the lump in his throat. “And it’s yours, you have to see that now. It can’t belong to anyone else.”_

 _“Anakin, Jedi do not **own** anything,” Obi-Wan managed to say at last._

 _“But they do,” Anakin said softly, as if telling him a secret. “So many of them do, Master.”_

 _“That does not make it right,” Obi-Wan said._

 _“Doesn’t it?” Anakin asked, and he’d sounded so quiet and confused._

 _“Something that is wrong stays wrong no matter how many people do it,” Obi-Wan said. He held the stone out to Anakin. Anakin looked at him with dark eyes, lower lip trembling with emotion._

 _“You don’t have to keep it forever,” he said, finally. “Just… just until you get back.”_

 _“Is that what this is about?” Obi-Wan asked, concerned. “Anakin, you don’t need to worry about me.”  
_

 _“You’re going to be gone for a month,” Anakin said, making the word ‘month’ sound as final as ‘forever’. “Anything could happen.”_

 _“Do you really think me so incompetent?” Obi-Wan asked lightly._

 _“No, of course not,” Anakin said, earnestly. “I just… they won’t let me go. You won’t let me go. But if you take it with you, then, maybe…”_

 _“What?” Obi-Wan asked, tilting his head in curiosity._

 _“You’ll remember that you have a reason to be careful,” Anakin said, and it was almost a surprise to remember that he wasn’t Anakin’s first hope, that when Qui-Gon had died, Anakin must have feared that his hopes of being a Jedi had died with him. That Anakin both relied on Obi-Wan to be there for him and yet had good reason to fear that the day would come when Obi-Wan would fail him._

 _“Anakin,” Obi-Wan said gently, still not entirely sure of how to deal with Anakin’s surplus of affection, even after seven years of living in close quarters. “I don’t need a piece of rock to remind myself of that.”_

 _The corners of Anakin’s lips turned up in an unsure smile, and Obi-Wan was suddenly, strangely aware that they were standing quite close, that his hand was still stretched out towards Anakin, and that Anakin was only a bare inch shorter than he was._

 _“Master, I will take it back,” Anakin told him, in a soft, breathy voice. “But only if you allow me to give you something in its place.”_

 _Obi-Wan opened his mouth to protest, to say that any new gift would have the same problems as this one, when Anakin moved forward and placed his lips on Obi-Wan’s._

 _Pure shock froze Obi-Wan in place._

 _Anakin’s lips were soft, pressing a gentle kiss against Obi-Wan’s lower lip. His movements were slightly clumsy, unskilled, and Obi-Wan could feel him trembling._

 _And he was terrified._

 _That was enough to break Obi-Wan out of his surprise, and he reacted instantly, pulling out of the kiss and backing away from Anakin._

 _Obi-Wan was disturbed to notice that his own breathing had become unsteady._

 _“What made you think that was even the slightest bit appropriate?” Obi-Wan asked._

 _“There’s nothing wrong with it,” Anakin said firmly, but he was still shivering. “There’s a Padawan in my ‘saber club, she told me-“_

 _“Who?” Obi-Wan asked sharply.  
_

 _Anakin blinked and seemed to come back into himself.  
_

 _“I’m not going to get her in trouble,” he said._

 _“You won’t,” Obi-Wan said. “But her Master **must** be reported to the Council.”_

 _“Why?” Anakin asked, defiantly. “They just love each other. There isn’t anything wrong with that.”_

 _“There wouldn’t be, if they were ordinary citizens,” Obi-Wan said. “But they have sworn their lives to the Jedi Order and that entails certain sacrifices. The Order can’t have its Knights placing a beloved above the will of the Force.”_

 _“They have to trust the Order and the Code over the people they care about,” Anakin said._

 _“Yes,” Obi-Wan agreed. “That’s part of the primary philosophy.”_

 _“ **You** trust the Order,” Anakin said with great confidence. “Above anything else.”_

 _“I suppose so,” Obi-Wan said, with rather less assurance._

 _“Then I don’t see why we can’t-“_

 _“You are my Padawan!” The force of Obi-Wan’s words made Anakin shrink back, lose some of his cocky certainty. Obi-Wan gentled his tone, reaching for serenity. “You are my apprentice and my responsibility. Doing what you ask would a betrayal of the oath that I took as your Master. It would be against the Code and against everything that we both hold dear.”_

 _Anakin nodded, reluctantly._

 _“You’re right, I am your Padawan,” he said. “But I won’t always be.”_

 _“Anakin-“_

 _“You know what I noticed, Master,” Anakin said. “I noticed that in that long list of reasons, you never said that you didn’t want to.”_

 _“Didn’t I?” Obi-Wan asked, almost to himself._

 _“No, you didn’t,” Anakin said. “And one day, we’ll both be Jedi Knights.”_

 _“Unless you get us killed before that,” Obi-Wan said, reflexively._

 _“And when we’re both Knights, and since you would never place anything above the will of the Force,” Anakin said, ignoring Obi-Wan’s words. “You won’t have any reasons left. Sexual relationships, as such, are not forbidden among Jedi. Just... dangerous attachments.”_

 _“Anakin, I know that you think that you want me,” Obi-Wan said. Anakin shot him an exasperated look. “But if you give it some time and explore your options, you’ll soon realize that, beyond any greater issues, we’re simply not suited for any sort of sexual relationship.”_

 _“You really believe that?” Anakin asked. Obi-Wan inclined his head in answer. “Well, then, you won’t mind granting a small request.”_

 _“What request?” Obi-Wan asked._

 _“If I still want you, after I’m a Knight, you’ll give me a chance,” Anakin said. “A fair one.”_

 _“Anakin, you won’t-“_

 _“Then it shouldn’t be a hard promise to make,” Anakin said simply._

 _Obi-Wan rubbed his thumb over the blue stone still nestled in the palm of his hand. This wasn’t about sex, he decided. Sex was just… convenient. This was about Anakin trying to ensure that his place in Obi-Wan’s life was secure. When Anakin realized that he didn’t have anything to fight for, that he already had what he wanted, he’d soon let go of this new idea._

 _“Very well,” he said. Anakin stared at him for a long moment, clearly waiting for more. Obi-Wan sighed and reminded himself that, just two weeks ago, Anakin had been telling him about a breathtakingly beautiful girl that he’d spotted in the plaza. Anakin had been halfway to planning a wedding with her, for all of an afternoon. In the end, a promise that would be forgotten so soon was such a small thing, only the slightest of surrenders. “I give you my word, Anakin.”_

 _“Thank you, Master,” Anakin said. He bowed his head and then headed for the door, turning back only to say, “May the Force be with you.”_

 _Then he left and Obi-Wan felt a tiny pang of doubt after the door slid closed behind him._

 _He pushed it away and walked to Anakin’s room, carefully placing the small blue stone in the center of Anakin’s bedspread._

 _Anakin likely wouldn’t find it until that evening and, by then, Obi-Wan would already be gone._

 _And by the time Obi-Wan got back from his mission, Anakin would have found someone new to admire._

 _He was certain of it…._

He’d been so certain.

And when he’d returned from the Outer Rim, Anakin hadn’t seemed angry or upset at him, just full of complaints about his brief stint of training under Quinlan Vos and equally full of glowing words for Vos’ comely apprentice Aayla. Obi-Wan had slotted the promise away and forgotten about it.

Clearly, that had been a mistake.

“Your technique has certainly improved,” Obi-Wan said, and Anakin glowed with pride.

“Thank you,” Anakin said. He glanced away for a moment, shyly, and Obi-Wan reflected that, all things considered, it was very fortunate for Anakin that most Jedi focused only on what they felt in the Force. He could hide his emotions behind that shield quite well, but so many of his feelings showed up in his face, especially in his eyes.

Anakin reached down to one of the pouches on his belt and pulled something out, tossing it to Obi-Wan, who caught it without thinking.

It thrummed in his hand, sending out waves of hope and longing.

When he opened his hand, he wasn’t surprised to see a small blue stone. The lettering was still crisp and clear, and Anakin’s energy signature had sunk even further into it in the past five years. It was warm in his hand, slightly warmer than body temperature, and he suspected that it always was.

It sang of Anakin and of dangerous things.

Of roads that should not be taken.

Of a promise that Obi-Wan should never have allowed himself to make.

But he’d made it, foolish as it had been. He couldn’t take it back.

And in the clarity of the moment, he realized that he didn’t _want_ to take it back.

The Force told him nothing, one way or the other, but by the rules of the Order, this would be more than a mistake. He was already far too attached to Anakin and adding the dimension of the physical could only make that attachment stronger.

Even if he didn’t entirely see how that was possible.

But he’d been wrong about so much of this already.

And now he had two conflicting promises – one to the Order, one to Anakin.

In the end, the choice wasn’t a choice at all.

He already knew which path he was going to follow.

Obi-Wan held the stone out towards Anakin, who was still looking at him, and there was fear in his eyes, and hope.

“As a Jedi, I can’t accept this,” Obi-Wan said, his voice calm and certain. “However, I might be willing to trade it for something greater.”

Anakin’s lips parted and his eyes widened, and some part of Obi-Wan was gratified at Anakin’s surprise, that Anakin hadn’t taken his answer for granted.

Anakin took a shaky step forward and it seemed as though he couldn’t decide whether he wanted to stare at Obi-Wan’s eyes or his mouth. Obi-Wan stayed where he was, hesitant to make the first advance.

Anakin’s left hand closed over his, pressing the warmth of the stone into Obi-Wan’s palm. Anakin stared down at where their hands touched, and his breathing was unsteady.

Anakin placed his right hand, his gloved hand, on Obi-Wan’s shoulder, and looked at Obi-Wan’s mouth again, his gaze intent and hungry, desire radiating out from him in steady pulses.

He let go of Obi-Wan’s hand, the fingers of his left hand trembling as they pressed against Obi-Wan’s mouth, moved to trace the shape of Obi-Wan’s lips. He stroked his fingers over Obi-Wan’s cheek, lips pressed together in concentration as he tested the grain of Obi-Wan’s beard.

It was flattering to be the subject of such an intense examination, but Obi-Wan found that, soon enough, he couldn’t wait for Anakin to satisfy his curiosity.

And it was Obi-Wan who pushed forward, closing the short distance between them, capturing Anakin’s mouth with his own.

Anakin let out a gasp of surprise, his hand tightening on Obi-Wan’s shoulder, bunching up the fabric of Obi-Wan’s tunic under his fingers. Anakin’s mouth was open under Obi-Wan’s now and Obi-Wan took full advantage, tasting Anakin’s full lower lip, daring to dart his tongue inside Anakin’s mouth to taste that as well.

Anakin tasted lightly of some sugared fruit and, more intensely, of something that Obi-Wan found that he couldn’t identify at all.

For years, Anakin had been everything sweet and good and pure in Obi-Wan’s life, even when he’d worked to make Obi-Wan miserable and frustrated beyond belief. It was somewhat maddening to admit, now, that his feelings for Anakin were not at all pure. That they hadn’t been for some time.

The stone fell from Obi-Wan’s suddenly nerveless fingers, and he could hear it land with a gentle thump onto the carpeted floor.

Anakin was calm under Obi-Wan’s touch, responding to the kiss gently, his warm hand pressed lightly against Obi-Wan’s neck, softly urging Obi-Wan up into his mouth.

Anakin always was better behaved when he was getting what he wanted.

Obi-Wan tilted his head for a better angle, his hands moving to Anakin’s belt before he’d consciously thought about it. Once there, it seemed so natural to undo it, pull it away and let it fall to the floor.

Anakin whimpered against him, hesitantly slipping his tongue into Obi-Wan’s mouth. It felt like a reward, like a new gift.

With Anakin’s belt gone, Obi-Wan could slide a hand up under his tunic, and feel the quivering muscles of Anakin’s firm, smooth stomach.

He curved his fingers around Anakin’s waist, tugging him closer. He moved his other hand up to Anakin’s shoulder, pushing the tunic back and away so that he could touch the tempting, golden skin of Anakin’s shoulder. Anakin moaned, taking his hand off of Obi-Wan so that he could slip his arm out of the tunic. Obi-Wan was more than happy to help, and then they kissed for a long moment, Anakin’s chest half-uncovered.

Obi-Wan slid his fingers down Anakin’s chest, circling the pad of his thumb around Anakin’s nipple, which was already tight and hard. Anakin jerked against him, panting into Obi-Wan’s mouth.

“Master, please,” Anakin said roughly, and the flash of arousal that shot through Obi-Wan was disturbing in its intensity. Obi-Wan closed his eyes, gliding a hand around to the small of Anakin’s back, pushing Anakin up against him.

Anakin was not a child any longer, he reminded himself, and there the proof was, in the hard cock pressing up against his thigh. More than that, Anakin was not his apprentice anymore.

 _This_ had nothing to do with _that_.

“Call me Obi-Wan,” he said, and some of his desperation bled through into his voice.

Anakin nodded, those full lips of his mouthing the word, and Obi-Wan pressed up again, tasting a little bit of himself in Anakin’s mouth. He pulled Anakin’s hand away from his shoulder, slipping Anakin’s tunic off of that side, too, letting the fabric fall to the ground, leaving Anakin half-naked.

Obi-Wan wasn’t entirely sure that half was good enough, but Anakin’s hips were hitching up against him, and it was enough for now. His hand slipped down further, sliding under the fabric of Anakin’s pants, resting on the firm swell of Anakin’s ass.

Though the shields around the room itself were tied off, independent of Anakin’s will, Anakin’s personal shields had been flickering for some time, washing Obi-Wan in rolling waves of lust, mixed with a surprising amount of tenderness.

With one hand, Obi-Wan held Anakin steady against him, and with the other, he continued to stroke and explore the pale gold of Anakin’s exposed skin. That lovely color had to be some gift of the desert, and Obi-Wan felt a strong, strange desire to go there, to see Anakin’s homeland. To kneel in sun-warm sand and speak words of gratitude and praise to the world that had given him his beautiful, powerful boy.

Obi-Wan leaned against Anakin’s shoulder, turning his face to kiss the sweat and salt from Anakin’s skin. Anakin was shivering and shuddering against him, his hips moving faster, losing their rhythm.

Anakin was making soft, pleading noises, lost in a place beyond words.

“My dear, sweet Anakin,” Obi-Wan whispered, running his fingers down Anakin’s arm, stopping at where the skin met fabric-covered durasteel. He felt a brief, uncontrollable surge of anger toward Dooku, but it was quickly overtaken by the hunger that raced through his veins. He caressed the divide between flesh and metal, one finger slipping below the edge of the glove, and Anakin mewled helplessly, his hands tightly clenched on the shoulders of Obi-Wan’s tunic. “My Anakin.”

Anakin bucked up against him, letting out a sharp, wordless cry of release.

And then he was trembling and limp in Obi-Wan’s arms, his satisfied languor mixed with traces of embarrassment.

“You’re still dressed,” Anakin complained, as soon as he had the breath to speak. Then he looked down, noticing the growing wet spot on his trousers. “ _I’m_ still dressed.”

“Yes, well, you’re young, yet,” Obi-Wan said, controlling the urge to wince at the words once they’d been said. “You’ll get your chance, I suspect.”

Joy burst out of Anakin at Obi-Wan’s words, and Obi-Wan was being kissed again, fiercely and gratefully.

“I knew you wanted me,” Anakin said after, still close enough that Obi-Wan could feel his words as well as hear them. “I knew.”

“Yes, yes, you were right and I was wrong,” Obi-Wan said, pulling back and brushing his knuckles over Anakin’s swollen lips. “Self-satisfaction isn’t an attractive quality, Anakin.”

Anakin’s lips parted and he lightly licked at Obi-Wan’s knuckles. Obi-Wan suppressed a shudder of lust, pulling his hand away. Anakin’s tongue swept over his lower lip, leaving it glistening slickly.

“We still need to take care of you,” Anakin said, pressing his fingers against the bulge in Obi-Wan’s pants. “We can do anything you want.”

Obi-Wan couldn’t tear his gaze away from Anakin’s lips, wet and pink. He reached out again, brushing the pads of his fingers against Anakin’s mouth, pushing the tips of two fingers into Anakin’s mouth. Anakin’s lips closed around Obi-Wan’s fingers, sucking at them, scraping his teeth against them lightly.

Obi-Wan let out a heavy, unsteady breath, allowing his fingers to slip out of Anakin’s mouth again, painting Anakin’s nipple with his own saliva.

Anakin hissed with pleasure, closing his gloved hand around Obi-Wan’s wrist. He looked at Obi-Wan with heavy-lidded eyes, the dark blue irises almost eclipsed by black. He licked his lips, smiling slyly when Obi-Wan shivered with desire.

Anakin’s gaze stayed firmly on Obi-Wan’s, as Anakin slowly sank to his knees, still holding onto Obi-Wan’s wrist.

Anakin moved Obi-Wan’s hand to the back of his head, and Obi-Wan sank his fingers into Anakin’s hair, grateful to have something to hold onto.

Obi-Wan was distracted from the thought of asking Anakin to let his hair grow out now that he was a Knight when Anakin leaned forward, pressing his cheek against Obi-Wan’s cock. Even through two layers of material, the touch made Obi-Wan gasp, his hand tightening in Anakin’s hair. 

Anakin’s satisfaction pulsed through the Force.

It should have been off-putting, as Anakin’s arrogance usually was, but somehow, in this particular situation, Obi-Wan found that it only made him harder, only made him want Anakin more.

Anakin pulled away and Obi-Wan felt a sharp twinge of disappointment.

“Are you sure that you don’t want to sit down?” Anakin asked, looking up at him with a cocky grin and knowing eyes. Obi-Wan glanced over at the couch and licked his lips thoughtfully. Now that Anakin mentioned it, it seemed like a wonderful idea, sitting down.

Obi-Wan strode over, carefully moving Anakin’s cloak to one side, and then dropping down onto the couch. It was, he thought, a shade less comfortable than the one in their rooms.

When he looked up again, Anakin was still kneeling on the floor, facing away from him.

“Were you planning on joining me?” Obi-Wan asked.

“Did you want company?” Anakin asked in honeyed tones, glancing over his shoulder and smiling coyly as he met Obi-Wan’s gaze.

“ _Yes_.”

Anakin let out a pleased sigh, twisting around to face Obi-Wan. He rose from the floor in a single graceful movement, and then stalked towards Obi-Wan, intent. The dampened front of his pants clung to him, clearly outlining his cock, which was once again beginning to harden.

He stopped just in front of Obi-Wan, and Obi-Wan couldn’t resist the urge to reach out and hook his thumbs under the edges of Anakin’s pants. He tugged gently, and the material crept down Anakin’s hips for a moment until it caught, revealing only the very beginning of a thatch of dark blond hair.

He stroked his fingers against Anakin’s skin, tracing the lines of muscle across and down, slipping his fingers under the material and pulling it out as he dragged it down.

He released his hold on Anakin’s pants and, with nothing holding them up, they fell around his ankles, useless.

Anakin was half-hard, and breathing heavily. With just a few moments of work, Obi-Wan was certain that he could have Anakin gasping and moaning again, trembling for his touch.

Obi-Wan started to reach out to touch Anakin’s cock, but his hand was caught, trapped in an unyielding grasp.

“No,” Anakin said, and his voice was soft, but firm. “This isn’t just about me. I’m not going to let you make this all about me.”

“Are you saying that you don’t want me to touch you?” Obi-Wan asked, inflecting his voice with the faintest traces of sarcasm. Anakin’s lips pressed together, his grip momentarily tightening around Obi-Wan’s wrist.

“I’m saying that you don’t get to walk away thinking that nothing’s changed,” Anakin said, boldly, arrogantly. “That _we_ haven’t changed.”

“Oh, so sex with you is supposed to be a life-changing event?” Obi-Wan asked, as though that were the most ridiculous idea in the universe. “It’s just sex, Anakin. That’s all.”

“If you’d just wanted sex, you’d have fucked that girl from the bar,” Anakin said. “This is about _us_ , about me and about you.”

“It’s about mutual lust,” Obi-Wan said.

“It’s about love,” Anakin said. Obi-Wan flinched involuntarily.

“No, it isn’t,” he said softly. “This is just passion, and passion fades in time.”

“Aren’t you the one who told me that _everything_ ends?” Anakin asked. “You can’t live your life avoiding something just because you’re scared to lose it.”

“I’m not afraid,” Obi-Wan said, looking away from Anakin. “I’m a Jedi, Anakin. I choose to live my life according to certain values. If you… if you do love me, then you have to respect that.”

Anakin let go of Obi-Wan’s hand. When Obi-Wan glanced back over at him, he was pulling his pants back up over his hips. His shields were up again, but Obi-Wan could see his lip trembling as he tried to control his emotions. And this, too, was Anakin. He had to have everything or he would take nothing at all.

“You were right, you know,” Anakin said quietly, all the confident arrogance of before gone as if it had never existed. “The Council isn’t sending me to Jurkesh alone.”

Obi-Wan couldn’t find it in himself to say anything.

“You’re coming with me,” Anakin said, his voice catching slightly on the word ‘with’. “We get to stay together, as a team. They agreed to let me tell you in person, instead of waiting until you met with the Council tomorrow.”

“That’s… that’s good news,” Obi-Wan said, doing his best to smile.

“Yes, I was…” Anakin glanced up at him, swallowed hard. “I was pleasantly surprised to hear it.”

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan said, entreatingly. “Don’t let this… mistake spoil things.”

“No, you’re right,” Anakin said. His mouth twisted in a bitter smile. “We live in a real world, after all, and Jedi aren’t allowed to love.”

“Anakin-“

“Stop trying to make it easier,” Anakin said. “Just… just go.”

Silently, Obi-Wan got up from the couch and started to walk towards the door. Halfway there, he felt an odd pull in the Force. He glanced down to see Anakin’s blue stone almost touching his left foot.

He glanced back at Anakin, who had his eyes closed tightly and his walls up higher than Obi-Wan had ever seen them before.

Obi-Wan bent down and picked up the stone, turning it over in his hand.

Here, Anakin had asked that Obi-Wan never face any danger that he couldn’t overcome. When Obi-Wan moved his thumb to the side, he could see a prayer that Obi-Wan would always find his way back home, back to Anakin.

Obi-Wan let out an unsteady breath, slipped the stone into a small pouch, and then continued out the door.

He would see Anakin tomorrow, after he spoke with the Council about his newest mission. And then he and Anakin would slog through some temporary uncomfortableness with each other, but eventually, things would get back to normal.

Back to the way things _should_ be, the way that they had to be for Anakin and Obi-Wan to work together peacefully.

Being a Jedi meant letting go of desires, of needs and fears.

One day, Anakin would understand that.


End file.
